


Boiling Over

by firecracker189



Series: Our Little Family [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Don't Like Don't Read, Gen, Mom!Natasha, Teen!Tony, bruce is literally asleep the whole time i swear he hasn't wanted to cooperate with me at all, bucky is an old school disciplinarian and steve gets whooped, but whatever have some cuddly boys, daddy!Bucky, for being a little shit, for like the last two things, little!Clint, little!steve, oh yeah, sleepy Clint, sleepy bruce, sleepy steve, this contains parental spanking, when he's big not when he's little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 03:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13538352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecracker189/pseuds/firecracker189
Summary: Post-mission, the avengers fly home on the jet. Steve gets irritated and throws a tantrum, Bucky takes him in hand. Later, Clint is cute and becomes a blanket burrito and cuddles with Bucky. Bucky struggles with being jealous that Natasha wants to cuddle with his baby, and Clint is jealous that he has to share Natasha with someone else-- they sulk together.





	Boiling Over

**Author's Note:**

> Only one translation for this one, at the end!

It had been a long day, and everyone was completely silent as the jet made its way back toward Avengers Tower. Steve and Bucky leaned against one another, Bruce lay curled up fast asleep in a corner, and Tony sat in the seat opposite Clint as they co-piloted. Natasha watched over Bruce’s sleeping form like one of those stone gargoyles on top of a building: silent and yet still menacing as she kept watch.

Steve shifted beside Bucky and let out an impatient grunt as his suit chafed at sweaty skin. Bruce was the only one who routinely kept a clean change of clothes on the jet, since Hulking out pretty much meant anything he was wearing at the time got destroyed. Bucky cast a questioning glance his way and Steve gritted his teeth, resolutely staring ahead. He was dirty, and covered in blood, and sweaty. He just wanted to get home and take a shower. It was uncomfortable to be trapped in thick layers of bullet proof material, sweat and grit unable to move anywhere from their confines against his skin. He shifted again and Bucky placed his metal hand on his thigh, squeezing to get his attention. “What?”

“Calm down.”

They'd been out for so long, and Steve was so tired, and with that one look Bucky could tell-- Steve had had enough.

“No!” he snarled. “I will _not_ calm down! We’ve been up for forty eight hours straight, we’re covered in dirt and blood, there’s sweat caked onto my body under this stupid suit, and…” he spluttered, frustrated as Natasha and Clint’s eyes pivoted to stare at him. Tony kept his gaze resolutely forward.

“You _will_ calm down.” Bucky’s voice rose as Steve’s did, staring him down.

Steve squirmed angrily, trying and failing to pry Bucky’s metal fingers from his leg. He must have locked the plates into place. “Let go!” he cried.

“I’m not going to, at least not until you get yourself under control.” Bucky’s voice was calm and unyielding, and it only fueled the fire of Steve’s anger.

“Let. _Go_!” His eyes flashed as he shoved at Bucky’s hand desperately, throwing himself bodily from the bench, landing at Bucky’s feet. He pivoted to his back, staring up at Bucky with a venomous look, chest heaving.

“Are you done with your tantrum?” he asked politely, looking down at Steve with a patronizing expression.

Steve’s expression turned mutinously dark, hands clenching into fists as he gazed directly into Bucky’s eyes and cursed him out.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Bucky drawled, thoroughly un-amused by Steve’s antics. Steve growled up at him from his position on the floor. “Right. Well, I didn’t want to have to set you straight in front of everyone else, but you leave me no choice.” Steve thought Bucky’s eyes looked a little bit sad as he stood up, looming ominously over him. Maybe. But his mind was too clouded with sensory input and just plain _fury_ that he couldn’t tell. He felt Bucky’s hand clench around his bicep and he fought, kicking and cursing out a series of words his mother would have beaten him for using. Bucky gave a weary sigh and hefted Steve over his shoulder. 

The shock of being flung over Bucky’s shoulder like a sack of flour winded him, hard muscle and bone managing to somehow have the same effect to his midriff as if he weren’t wearing his full tactical armor. Steve wheezed a little, gathering his breath back. “B-bite me.” 

The others watched the spectacle silently, Bruce’s snores providing a soundtrack to Steve’s fury. Even Tony had abandoned all pretenses now, and swiveled his chair around to watch the show.

Bucky gave a long-suffering sigh. “Steve. Please don’t make me do this when everyone is watching.” He murmured, but Steve kept growling curses and epithets, squirming and kicking. Bucky abruptly changed Steve’s position, sitting down and dropping Steve face down across his knees. Steve’s struggling only increased when he realized what was happening. Bucky clamped down Steve’s wrists in his metal arm, flesh one making quick work of undoing the bottom half of Steve’s suit, discarding piece after piece calmly until nothing was left but the dark navy of boxer-briefs against pale thighs.

Steve bucked his hips, eyes widening. Bucky hadn’t spanked him since he was fourteen! Surely this wasn’t happening now! The haze of fury turned to sheer panic at the thought of everyone in the jet witnessing him get his ass handed to him, and his efforts to free himself doubled. Bucky let go of his wrists in favor of clamping that infernal metal arm around his waist, plates whirring as they locked into place—he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. Steve squirmed and let out a series of low whines as Bucky began to lay down a few well-placed swats to his thighs.

“Don’t start with me,” Bucky warned, and Steve felt all of fourteen again.

“B-Buck,” he gasped, squirming against the metal digging into his hips. “Please, I’m sorry, I swear it won’t happen again,” Bucky’s hand came down with more force, and Steve yelped.

"Sorry doesn't change your bad attitude, little boy.” Bucky’s voice was tense. Steve knew he hated doling out punishments like this, but to be fair, he’d earned it. Another round of swats followed before Bucky’s hand let up, and he relaxed slightly, hoping for an end. “Not done yet,” Bucky warned grimly, and Steve blanched.

“Bucky,” he continued pleading. “ _Please,_ not here, not… not in front of everyone!” he knew exactly what Bucky meant by 'not done yet,' and he didn't want the others to see. 

Bucky gave him a firm swat. Steve took the hint and buried his face in his arms, cheeks flaming in embarrassment as the rough material of his suit scratched at his forehead. It was humiliating, feeling the material of his underwear slowly make its way down his ass until it contacted his burning thighs. He let out a hiss and Bucky pushed the material down further, to his calves.

He felt Bucky’s arm go around his waist again and he braced himself. Even without using his metal arm, Bucky packed a wallop as he rained down a painful series of swats to Steve’s ass. Steve squirmed against him and bit his lip to keep from crying out. Bucky frowned. Usually by now Steve was crying out or making some sort of noise. He didn’t want this to continue forever, but he had to make sure Steve reached that careful point of vulnerability wherein he was ready to talk about his mistakes. Bucky added more strength to the swats, and soon enough Steve was taking hitched breaths. It wouldn’t be long now before he started crying. That was usually when Bucky started into the talking. But it seemed he’d forgotten the sheer stubbornness of Steve: he held out for another half an hour before Bucky gave a heavy sigh. Steve’s ass was a lovely shade of cherry red, and he knew it had to be hurting the kid. He tilted his knees, raising the under-curve of Steve’s cheeks, and Steve cried out, raising his head.

“Almost done,” he murmured, and Steve set to raising holy hell as Bucky rained down the heaviest swats yet. He kicked and fought and snarled like a caged animal, but Bucky’s metal arm kept him firmly in place. Steve’s stubbornness meant that it took a good while before he finally caved, letting out a low sob, hating that he’d been reduced to tears over something like this. But it was a uniquely humiliating sensation to be upended in front of everyone, knowing they were watching him get what he’d so clearly been begging for.

“I’m sorry,” he finally gasped, and Bucky’s hand stopped moving. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, and Bucky let him talk. The problem was, Steve couldn’t seem to form a full sentence. The dam broke. He gasped and squirmed and sobbed and made a full mess of himself, nose running a river.

Bucky let him vent for a moment before tugging his underwear back up and righting him. Steve was an absolute mess as he stood before Bucky, and Bucky couldn’t help it—he stood up and pulled him close. “I know you’re sorry, pal.” He murmured softly, as Steve clung onto him. “I know you are.”

Steve keened and leaned against Bucky, knees going weak as his hands scrabbled at Bucky’s tact suit. Bucky caught him just in time, heaving Steve up onto his hip.

“Help me get him all the way undressed,” He caught Natasha’s eye and she unfolded herself from the floor, wordlessly stripping Steve from the upper half of his suit and his gloves. Steve let out a desperate sob and squirmed, looking to get closer to Bucky. “Hey, it’s alright, pal,” He murmured, running a hand through Steve’s hair. Within minutes he had a fully regressed Steve on his hands. “Tony?” he asked. “How long till we get home?”

Tony shook himself out of his stupor and cleared his throat. “Uh, maybe an hour?”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know if he can last that long,” Steve wailed softly, and Bucky shushed him. “I’m going to need to get him into a diaper soon or we’re all going to be in trouble.”

Natasha disappeared, coming back from the corner where Bruce was sleeping. “I packed everyone a bag.” She explained, and Bucky looked at her like she hung the moon. “Phil and I thought it would be a good idea, just in case.”

“You’re a miracle worker,” Bucky spoke as Natasha set the bag down and dug through it, setting out what he would need to get Steve taken care of.

“You wouldn’t last without me,” She said smugly, as he put Steve down and knelt to get him dressed.

“Alright, alright, don’t push it,” he grumbled, and wrestled Steve into a shirt. It was difficult with the amount of crying and clinging.

Natasha sighed and knelt down, distracting Steve by talking to him softly and stroking his damp cheeks. She noted with no small amount of pleasure that her actions soothed Stivi almost immediately, and James was able to dress him much faster. It also amused her that his sour expression showed up once more when Stivi reached for her instead of him. “I know,” she murmured to the little one, holding him close and cooing softly. “I know, your mean Daddy spanked you, didn’t he? Your poor bottom is very sore, solnyshko, I know.” Steve clung to her and sniffled, hiding his face against her neck as her long hair provided a secure curtain for him to hide behind.

Bucky retreated to sulk in the back of the jet, taking up a position near the sleeping Bruce. He hated having caused his boy pain, but it was necessary, and it wouldn’t hurt within the hour due to Steve’s accelerated healing abilities anyway. He locked eyes on the way Natalia held Steve and spoke to him softly, admiring her softness. Though, it appeared he was not the only one to do so. Clint sneaked over, out of his co-pilot position and stared for a moment, before making a beeline back towards Bucky.

Bucky smiled softly. “Whatcha need, squirt?” he asked quietly, noting that Clint had slipped a little.

“Help me change outta this?” he asked, tugging impatiently at his own suit.

“Sure, pal. Why don’t you go and grab yours and Bruce’s bags for me? We should get him into something warmer than what he brought for himself.” Bruce’s light tee and sweats were causing him to shiver as he slept curled against the metal flooring.

Clint returned a moment later dragging his and Bruce’s duffles by their shoulder straps. “Here you go.” He held out the strap to Bruce’s bag.

Bucky set it down. “I think since you’re awake, we oughta get you taken care of first, little bird.”

Clint looked like he wanted to cry, and Bucky murmured soft reassurances as he gathered him close. “It’s alright. I know you’re feeling tired and icky. I know.” He rubbed Clint’s back for a moment. “But I also know that once we get you into some clean clothes, you’ll feel a lot better, and then you can sit with me until we get home.”

Clint sniffled as Bucky peeled him away from his chest, fidgeting the entire time Bucky helped him undo the complicated mess of Velcro and straps that was his top half. The bottom half proved easier, and soon he was safely ensconced in one of Phil’s stolen hoodies and his Mickey Mouse pajama pants. “Sit down for me?” Bucky asked, eyes warm. Clint sat obediently and stuck his feet out as Bucky worked the socks onto his feet. “No more cold toes for you, pal.” He reached out an index finger and tapped Clint’s nose lightly. Clint giggled. “Now you gotta help me with Bruce real quick,” he murmured. “Then we can cuddle for a while. I see Natalia packed your Nemo blanket,” Clint’s eyes went wide and Bucky laughed. “Yeah, just a few minutes and I promise I’ll wrap you up cozy like a Clint-rrito!” he teased.

Clint scurried over and began to root through Bruce’s bag, pulling out a thick sweatshirt, pair of socks, and a fleece pair of pajama pants patterned over with little steaming beakers. He handed Bucky the appropriate items as he stripped Bruce down, watching as Bucky gently re-dressed the sleeping man into warmer clothes. The affect was instantaneous, Bruce sighing happily as Bucky tucked him back underneath the blanket and let him get comfortable once more.

“There.” Bucky stowed the clothes back into each bag and zipped them up, Nemo blanket firmly held in one hand. “Now, I believe a little boy wants to become a blanket burrito.”

“That’s me!” Clint squeaked adorably, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Then come here!” Bucky teased, shaking the blanket out and holding it up. Clint walked over and Bucky expertly wove the blanket around him tightly. “There.”

“I can’t move my arms,” Clint mumbled sleepily. “But s’cozy an’ I like it.”

“You should be,” he answered. He’d effectively swaddled him from head to foot in the fleecy fabric, hoping that it would maybe put a certain cranky pants to sleep before they had cause for another tantrum over jealousy that Natasha’s lap could be shared by more than one Little. Bucky sat back down comfortably and adjusted Clint across his lap.

Clint gave a little sigh and burrowed his face into Bucky’s shoulder.

It wasn’t five minutes before he was asleep, and blessed quiet reigned. Steve had fallen asleep as well, which left only three of them awake.

“Tony?” Bucky called softly. “How ya doin?”

Tony swiveled and flipped a couple switches, leisurely strolling the length of the jet so he could speak to Bucky without waking the others. “Yeah. Fine.” He said airily. Bucky raised a brow. Tony backed off. “Alright. Tired. Dirty. Hungry. Mind if I lay down for a while?”

“I’m sure JARVIS has things well in hand.” Bucky replied, gesturing to the corner. “I think Natasha stashed a few more blankets and pillows in there.”

Tony nodded and returned with one of each item in hand, making himself a little nest on the opposite side of Bucky from Bruce. Bucky reached down and absently tugged the blanket more around Tony’s shoulders. “Sleep tight, pal.”

The last thing Tony remembered before a dreamless sleep hit was gentle fingers carding through his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> solnyshko-- sunshine


End file.
